A Coming of Age
by XIntangible StriderX
Summary: Unlikely hero, endeavors to stop an ancient sith prophecy. (1st chapter by BaronReno, rest by me)
1. Default Chapter

"Look, I don't speak good Bocce....talk in Basic," Jinx yelled at the droid, who for whatever reason was refusing to speak Basic. It muttered something in Bocce, which he only caught part of. "Damnit, speak Basic....I know you can. Droids have like thousands of languages."  
  
The droid rattled something off about only speaking Bocce.  
  
Jinx sighed....this was why he didn't have a droid. Insufferable, each and every one of them. Speaking of insufferable, the heat on Tatooine just made life plain miserable. Why did he ever decide to come to dirtball in the first place?  
  
"Fine..." he muttered. Jinx turned around and pointed to his rented transport, which bore some scratch marks on the hull. He searched his memory for the right words. "Zat x'ratch keezo bompaz ha sheep!"  
  
The droid seemed taken back that he could speak Bocce. "I'm sorry, sir," the droid suddenly said in flawless Basic, "But that scratch wasn't here when my company rented you the ship on Rodia. You'll have to pay extra for it."  
  
Jinx gave a tight-lipped smile and reached into his pocket, taking out the few remaining credits he had left. "I just had to come to Tatooine....couldn't have decided to go vacation on Calamari, or check out the beaches on Corellia....just had to check out the biggest waste of space in the galaxy.....". He looked sharply at the droid. "It's bloody hot here, ya know. My underwear is sticking to my-"  
  
"I'm not programmed to feel heat, sir," it interrupted.  
  
"Yeah, only to take people's money...." he muttered under his breath. Jinx bitterly gave the money to the droid, tossing in the few Bocce swear words he knew for good measure. "Well thanks, you pile of crap scrap, I'm pretty much broke now. You at least know of a place I can get some money so I can rent this ship again and get out of here?"  
  
"Chalmun's Cantina is several blocks down that way, you might check there."  
  
Jinx started walking down the street, but stopped when he saw a rock lying on the ground. He smiled mischieviously and glanced back at the droid standing near his rented ship. In one fluid motion, he reached down, hurled the rock at the droid, and ran away. He didn't stick around to see it hit the droid. He did, however, hear a nice satisfying thud a few seconds after throwing it. Violence might not solve problems, but if sure makes ya feel better.  
  
As Jinx walked towards the Cantina, he passed two humans and their droids being interrogated inside a speeder.  
  
"These aren't the droids you're looking for...." the old man said.  
  
"....yes the are," the trooper said.  
  
"No.....these aren't the droids you're looking for....."  
  
"Yes, they are," the trooper said back.  
  
"Are not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Are not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Are not!"  
  
"Are too!! C'mon, let's get'em boys!" Suddenly all the troopers nearby jump in a huge dogpile inside the speeder, covering it's inhabitants in a sea of white armor. Jinx shook his head. Such stupid hicks here......why did he come here again? Then he spotted Chalmun's Cantina. It looked pretty crappy from the outside. Hopefully it's better inside. With that, he walked for the door.....  
  
Jorgas was big, green and angry. Not many people had the gall to throw a rock at a Trandoshan, especially without reason. But that little human...that little pathetic runt had. Ohhhhh....he was going to love tearing his arms off and using his bones to pick the human out of his teeth after dinner. Jorgas turned the corner just in time to see the human enter Chalmun's Cantina.......Jorgas growled. The human was SO going to feel some pain.... 


	2. Stirrings of the past

**************  
  
Within the shadows of a distant alley stood a man. Tall and broad shouldered, clad from head to toe in black, his skin, dark as night itself. The soles of his feet were protectively wrapped within the embrace of a pair of bantha hide boots. His legs, shrouded in the recesses of black cargo pants, which appeared a few sizes too large, wrapped about his shoulders, was a black drab poncho, which fell nearly to his knees, a hood was set upon his head; a horde of shadows pervading the innermost recesses of his hood, served to conceal his facial features. Strapped to his right hip, beneath the concealing mass of poncho, was Rhune Wynde: 44 centimeters of machined, and polished ebony, stone-laced with alloy, engraved with runes and glyphs, which when viewed on a moonless light, could be seen to glow noticeably, pulsating with a life of its own.  
  
He stood immobile as a statue, not at all surprised by the crashing ship, or the rock which had curiously struck the trandoshan, for it was he and he alone, who had brought those events to pass. He strode in the direction of Chalmun's Cantina, cutting across the flow of traffic, city denizens and merchants quickly moving out of his path; something about this one whispered against association.  
  
`Hitherr, a way to makke Kenobi; preyyy..'  
  
The voice, if it could be called that rasped in his mind. Pausing, he turned to his right seeing a merchant and two droids on their knees in the hot sand, with hands clasped over their heads. A platoon of stormtroopers stood in encirclement formation with weapons drawn. Drawing on his vast knowledge and power in the dark side of the force, he enhanced his hearing; pretending to study a datapad which he plucked from a pocket as he eavesdropped on the conversation.  
  
The Imperial tech whispered into his headset: "Major, I find no evidence of the Dea-.. "plans," in either droid's memory systems." Mentioning of the Death Star Project over an open channel, even an encrypted one, would likely get one a face to face interview with Lord Vader, the tech went pale as he realized how close he had come to what would inevitably be, a fatal meeting. "Affirmative, Ensign; report back to Lieutenant Briggs for TAD,"(TAD - Temporary Additional Duty) the Major's scrubbed and distorted voice came through his earpiece.  
  
A scant few meters away, the platoon leader seemed to fiddle with his helmet, as he turned up the gain: "Sergeant Dunwell," the Major's voice came over the tac net, "I have just completed reading your preliminary report. Why have you taken these droids into custody? They don't fit the description of the droids we're looking for." Beneath his helmet the platoon leader scowled at the departing form of the tech, "Sir, he inexplicably, put an extraordinary amount of effort into convincing me, that these weren't the droids we were looking for." the Sergeant replied. "Did it ever occur to you that he might be telling the truth, Sergeant?" the Major ended with hint of a growl. "Well yes, sir it did, but I believe in being thorough." "  
  
The Major seemed to consider that. "Stick to your mission objectives Sergeant, The Emperor does not approve of the wasting of his resources, comitting an entire stormtrooper platoon on a wild bantha hunt is not becoming of a stormtrooper who aspires to someday become brigade leader, do I make myself clear, Serrgeant?" "Sir, yes sir." the Sergeant replied.  
  
Aboard the Star Destroyer in orbit, Major Hansel closed off the communication, wondering how a fool who couldn't tell the different between a R2 unit and a street sweeping droid, had ever risen as high as platoon leader. Down the street, the stranger in black smiled; clearly the Emperor's lackeys weren't as effective, without the Emperor himself around to augment, their dwindling mental faculties. Focusing his thoughts on the lightsaber riding upon his hip, he imaged the mental equivalent of a question mark, attempting to communicate with Rune Wind, telepathically.  
  
"How do I use them?" he asked. `Keenobi will seek to enter the void; with the son of Skywalkerrr. A ship, they shall seeek.' The stranger nodded imperceptibly. "So, if I steer them in the direction of the spaceport, perhaps they'll get lucky." 'Indeeeed,' the voice rasped.  
  
Watching the stormtroopers go about their activities with thinly veiled contempt, the stranger was thankful he had not chosen to ally himself with the Emperor. He had lived in the Badlands of Tatooine for decades, eternally vigilant; he trained and meditated daily, every waking hour spent improving himself, with no outside distractions. For years he had glimpsed visions of the end of Vader and the Emperor both. Soon, that time would come to pass; he had foreseen it.  
  
Reaching down to the depths of his soul he felt a sudden shift within, as if a energy potential of unimaginable power had suddenly awaken, ready and able to do his will, for a fleet moment his eyes blazed crimson beneath his hood, then the moment passed. His will had been done.  
  
Satisfied that he had succeeded in planting a compulsion in the mind of the platoon leader, the stranger started in the direction of Chalmun's Cantina once more. He did not have time to seek out Kenobi, and eliminate him. He hoped that sending the platoon of stormtroopers to the center of the spaceport from whence they would be able to reach any Mos Eisley docking bay with decent speed would suffice. Eliminating the son of Skywalker's ascension to Jedi Knight, or fulfilling the prophecy, the choice had not been an easy one.  
  
He had read surviving sith manuscripts of old, and knew that Obiwan's presence shielded his influence on the force from the Emperor. Kenobi guarded the son of Skywalker, and Skywalker could not be put to rest without Kenobi being disposed of as well. No, back then, he couldn't risk the Emperor learning of him, not until the reckless one appeared.  
  
But Jinx had come. Using the force, he had caused Jinx's ship to crash exactly as he had seen in his visions. Now he had only to befriend the reckless boy, and manipulate him towards the dark destiny. Watching the enraged trandoshan stalk into Chalmun's Cantina, he smiled. A simple task. Intervention on the boy's behalf, some trandoshan blood spilt, bones broken; and the boy would owe him, even though it was his telekinesis* abilities and manipulations that had caused the rock to strike the trandoshan in the first place..  
  
The day he had waited and trained so dilligently for, had finally come. Soon, the vision would come to pass; and the heavens themselves would be shook to their very foundations.. he had foreseen it. 


End file.
